Curls
by nickjisoffdachain
Summary: Andi has always had a miserable life, well, since her father died. She began seeing scars on her, and she can't stop. When she moves, will she change, or will her new "friends" make her even more miserable?
1. Chapter 1

I looked out of my window, thinking. I want a new life. I want to start over. These past fourteen years have been hell for me, especially the past three years. I don't even want to think of what's been going on. How do I take the pain away? I do what most people do. I cry until the pain goes away. Sometimes, I find gashes on my arms. It always scares me, knowing that someday, I might die the same way that he did. My mom can't help me. She's just as messed up as I am. My whole world went upside down when she said that she wanted to move

Sure, I wanted a change, but not this big. It's already hard for me to keep my friends, and it'll be even harder to make new ones. I sat on the couch, listening to my iPod. Only sad songs were the ones that I played. I knew nothing about pop music. Suddenly, mom came up to me.

"Andi, you need to go pack up your stuff." She said, and I quickly pulled down my sleeves, hoping that she wouldn't see the gashes on my arm. I don't even know why this happens to me.

"Mhmm." I groaned, ignoring every word that she said. I saw her turn around. Here we go again.

"ANDREA MARIE CARLTON, YOU BETTER GET YOUR BUTT OF OF THAT COUCH, OR YOU'LL GET IT!" Mom bellowed. I quickly stood up, glared at her, and ran. I can still hear her screaming for me to get back as I was heading towards the bathroom.

As I was digging through the drawers, searching for one thing that made me experience a different kind of pain, I was thinking. Should I really do this again? I shrugged the thought out of my head, and found the new, clean razor that my mom had bought a couple of days ago. I quickly closed my eyes, and let all my angry feelings out. My mom was a bitch. No one should ever leave a child with her. I don't even know why I should just run away.

A few minutes have passed, and I quickly got up and wrapped my arm around a towel. I sneaked into my room, hoping that when I lie down, all of this pressure will go away.

I woke up, and I looked at the clock. 3:00AM. Shit. I should be finished packing by now. I quickly got up, and looked at my arm. The memory of me cutting myself was a big blur. I can't remember why I was even doing it.

Let's see. I got the box that my mom had left in my room. I quickly put in the things that I needed to bring with me. I just threw in my camera, laptop, my iPod accessories, and a bunch of my clothes. I noticed something on my desk. It was dusty, like all the CDs that I haven't listened to in the past 3 years. I picked it up. _Jonas Brothers_. Gay. I don't even know why I bought this CD in the first place. I quickly threw it in the pile that was going to go to the garbage, and I went back to sleep.

I got up the next day to the screaming that my mother was making. I put on my black sweater over my shirt, put on my makeup and skinny jeans, and rushed out the door. My mom's eyes met mine as I got down the stairs.

"Andrea, if you ever do anything like what you did to me last night again," I cut her off.

"You'll do what, mom? Lock me up in my room? Hit me until I bleed to death? You don't understand, don't you? I'm not your little girl anymore. You can't make me do anything that you want all the time. I don't care if you're my mother, okay?" I spat out, and saw her face go red.

I continued on. "I'm trying to keep myself from getting angry at you. But you keep on pushing me. It's not helping me at all. Don't say that you're decent because you're not! You've got a problem, mom. Fight for your health. You're the only one I've got." She broke down as I said that. I'm sure that what I said won't be planted in her mind, though. It's like this one-time thing.

I went back up to my room and stayed in there until my mom stopped weeping. Of course, she came knocking on my door an hour later. I thought about just ignoring it, but I could hear her sniffling a little bit.

"Yeah?" I asked as I opened the door.

"Honey, I'm sorry for what I've been treating you." I heard her say. And she kept going on and on, but I still knew that all this was fake. After she was done speaking, she looked at me straight in the eye.

"Okay. Let's go mom, we have to move soon." I said through gritted teeth. She gave the tiniest smile I've ever seen, and walked back downstairs.

* * *

As we were loading things into our truck, I wondered. How the heck am I supposed to make new friends? I'm very self-conscious, and stubborn. Who would like a girl like me?

As we began our long ride from Seattle, WA to Los Angeles, CA, I ignored everything that I heard, or saw, except stare and listen to the songs on my iPod. Putting my headphones on full blast, nothing was bothering me, not even my mother.

I picked up my backpack, searching for some things that my mom might have snuck in there. I found a few shirts, which were shirts that I would never wear, and a few CDs, including the _Jonas Brothers_ one. Didn't I just throw this away? I took off my headphones and talked to my mom.

"Why did you put this in my backpack?" I asked, showing her the CD.

"Well, I thought that you might still want it." Mom replied.

"Well, I don't. And please stop putting things in my bag without permission!" I argued, and put my headphones back on, thinking why my mom would even think that I would still want that CD.

As we got to our new home in LA, I looked at it. It was very different than our old home. It was newer, and bigger. The walls didn't look like someone tried to rip them apart. I moved all my stuff in my room and sat on my bed, thinking of what to do next.

"Andi, can you help me bring in some of the stuff?" I heard my mom say. I sighed, and went downstairs to give my mom a chance.

"Hi. Can you just take that one box out of the car? All the other stuff has been moved in." She directed me to our old blue Chevy pickup truck.

"Alright. But, how did you move all these things into the house so fast?" I asked. It hasn't even been that long since we arrived. Mom turned her head.

"Oh, these lovely boys helped me." Putting her hand out and calling three teenage boys. They had a very weird style. They had long, curly hair, except for one which had wavy hair. Gay.


	2. Chapter 2

Who the hell are they? I walked past them without saying a word, and went back up to my room. I can see their confused, sad faces from a glance. My mom looked furious. I snickered a little bit, while stomping my feet on my way up to my room.

My mom knocked on my bedroom door shortly after I got in. "Andrea, be nice and mingle to those lovely boys." She said. Who says 'mingle' nowadays anyway? Ugh, my mom is so frustrating. I opened the door.

"Mom, you just don't ask people to become friends with someone right away. You know I hate that."

"But honey, they're very nice. Give them a chance. You might get along together pretty well." She said, smiled meekly, and went back downstairs to those three weird teenagers. I lied down on my bed, and opened the drawer to my brown wooden side table. My hand rummaged around the things in the drawer until I found the blue scissors that I had since I had started getting mad and depressed at myself.

I pressed the sharp blade of the metal scissor on my arm. Thinking about all the thing that make me want to scream and cry, I slowly pushed deeper into my skin. After leaving a tiny bleeding wound, I stopped. I needed new friends after all. Maybe it'll be different next time.

I hate having these two sides of me. I'm being too nice and mean at the same time. No one, not even me, could understand it. I quietly went back downstairs, only to find my mother and the boys with another woman who looked like their mom sitting in the living room. They slowly turned their heads towards me, and I gave them a tiny glare and pulled my sleeves down, hoping that they would never see my scars. Mom glared at me, and I gave everyone in the living room a small, fake smile, and sat down on the chair.

"Hi there. I'm Mrs. Jonas, but you can call me Denise. I assume that you've already met my sons." The woman with dark, curly hair said. She then pointed at the boy who looked like the youngest one. "This is Nicholas. He's sixteen," and she pointed at the one who looked a bit older, the one with straight hair "this is Joseph, he's nineteen," then she pointed at the oldest one with short, curly hair. "And this is Paul."

"Mom!" 'Paul' said, and the other two boys laughed.

"I'm just kidding. He doesn't like being called Paul. He prefers to be called Kevin." Denise said. I just sat there, thinking if I should shake their hands. My mom spoke first though.

"I'm sorry about my daughter, she's just a little, uh, tired. Her name is Andrea, but she likes to be called Andi." She said, but I stopped her.

"It's okay mom, I can take it." I said through gritted teeth.

"Hi. I'm Andi, and I'm sixteen." I put on a small fake smile and I didn't put my hand out. The guys looked at me as if like they were scared to touch me.

"Uh, hi, nice to meet you." Kevin said, I guessed that he was trying to be nice, or brave. Mom and Denise went into the kitchen, and I just stared, well pretty much glared at my mom as she left the room. I think mom noticed it, since she turned around.

"Just give them a chance. You might be great friends with them." She whispered. Yeah right, I can't even make friends in my old school, how can I make friends here? I sighed, and went back to the three losers.

They were sitting there, staring at me, wide-eyed. It creeps me out. I looked away, and Nick stood up. How brave, I thought. He looked like he was trembling, though. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it again, and took a deep breath. He looked like he was ready to speak again.

"Uh, hey." He said shyly. What is with this boy?

"Hi." I said, rolling my eyes. Maybe he still hasn't got the clue that I don't want to be friends. I knew the nice part of me had rubbed off.

"Your mom told us to show you around town."

"Eh, sure." I crossed my arms, and Joe and Kevin stood up, still wide-eyed. What is wrong with these people? Do they normally have those large eyes? If it were true, I'd feel sorry for the people who stare at them.

As Kevin led us to his car, I stopped. I'm in love with cars, probably because my dad liked to play cars with me when I was little.

"Dude, you've got a wicked ride!" I exclaimed. That was a surprise. I just stared at the shiny, black Jeep Commander outside.

"Uh, thanks." Kevin said.

"You like cars?" Joe asked. I turned around and rolled my eyes.

"Yeah. I'm in love with cars! I'm pretty much of a tomboy, you know." I laughed a bit, and the three buys just looked confused.

* * *

Everyone stayed quiet during the trip, all except for Joe and Kevin. Kevin was pointing out the places around, and Joe just made weird sounds. Nick just stared out the window, looking bored, and all I did was say "mhmm" and groan here and there. This went on for around twenty to thirty minutes, until Kevin decided to park at some mall.

"Starbucks time!" He said, and we all got out of the car. I love Starbucks, I would crave it all the time, but I didn't express how excited I was in front of the boys.

As we got inside, each of the boys made their orders, and I made mine after. As I took my wallet out, Nick stopped my hand.

"It's alright, I'll pay for all of it." He said, taking his wallet out. Show off much? I looked at him weird.

"I owe by brothers too." He added. Yeah right, like that explains it.

As we sat down quietly, I noticed a couple of people staring at our table. Maybe they were wondering why a girl was hanging out with three boys, but I'm quite sure that that was not the reason why, since I look like the type that hangs around boys all the time. I looked over at Joe first, who was hiding his face behind his long bangs. Then Kevin and Nick noticed him, and hid their faces as well.

Something weird is going on here.


End file.
